


The Warden Queen

by LadySerenade



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Embrace the Femslash, F/F, F/M, Hawke is a sarcastic dick, Isabela is a wonderous queen, Multi, The Hero of Ferelden - Freeform, and a pirate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:37:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySerenade/pseuds/LadySerenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU about what happens when Cassandra did find the Hero of Ferelden in time and convinces her to lead the Inquisition. Because we all know the Warden deserved a better continuation story, and that femslash in the fandom needs to be embraced more!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Best Kept Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> World State: Aven Cousland was recruited into the Wardens at a very young age. She sided with the mages, helped broker peace with the Dalish, and crowned Harrowmant. A staunch protector and deeply religious warrior who believed everyone deserved a fair chance. She was a natural leader as well as a shrewd but diplomatic politician. She romanced Leliana, but married Alistair and was placed on the throne in the end. She also convinced Alistair to the ritual with Morrigan. Eventually went on to be Warden Commander in Amaranthine before her disappearance. 
> 
> Hawke fought hard to protect and free mages due mainly to his sister Bethany, and the man she loved, Anders. Even after Bethany joined the wardens Hawke fought hard for the oppressed in Kirkwall. He was generally a sarcastic asshole, who romanced Isabela and protected her before running off with her after the events that destroyed the Chantry.

"I've told you the truth Seeker, I do not appreciate your line of suspicion," King Alistair said, watching Cassandra pace the room in a rage.

"She is your wife, and you expect me to believe that you do not know where she is?" Cassandra asked angrily. "The Divine herself told me to seek out the Warden."

"She has a name," The King said in exasperation. "And my wife she may be, but I would not lie to you during this time. I haven't heard word of Aven in years. If you want to find her hiding place, I suggest you look to your own for answers."

Cassandra looked at him sharply, it wasn't the first time he alluded to her that she already had the answers she needed, but he refused to say anything outright. It was a frustrating circle. Next she would be sent to Kirkwall, to try to find the Champion. A foolhardy plan indeed, but Leliana thought that if anyone could calm this unrest it would be the man who was there when it all started. Cassandra heard the tales of Hawke however, a man who greatly sympathized with the mages. Not for the first time she wondered if she had been better at her job, then this whole mess could have been put to rights a long time ago.

"Your Highness," She practically growled and turned on her heel to leave. She didn't want to shout and scream in front of a foreign monarch, that would help nothing. She thought she caught a sympathetic look on his face as she left, but she ignored it. He had to be lying, how did he not know where the other ruler of his country was? The woman who had shared his bed for years? She knew the tales as everyone else did, the monarchs of Ferelden were well loved, adored even. Aven Theirin, to hear her described by her countrymen, was a benevolent and beautiful woman who verged on sainthood, always helping those in need with fairness and diplomacy. She and Alistair were known to deal with noble and peasant alike, no task was too small for their attention. Was Cassandra really to believe that such a woman abandoned her country?

"No luck then?" The pretty Orlesian accent called from the shadows. The Seeker was used to this by now, and did not even slow her pace as the redhead fell into step with her.

"He insists that I would know where to find her before he would. Says he hasn't heard from her in years, he has to be lying," Cassandra insisted.

"Then we should seek the Champion," Leliana chimed in. "He will be able to cool tensions at the Conclave."

"And if he can't? If he only adds fuel to the fire? We still have no conclusive reports out of Kirkwall," Cassandra said bitterly.

"Varric Tethras," Leliana started, but was cut off with a sarcastic bark of laughter from the other woman.

"Is a spinner of tales! His story of the Champion is too fantastical to be true," Cassandra insisted for the hundredth time. "I do not think it is wise to question him. I still think we should find the Hero of Ferelden. She was there with the mages during the Blight, many of them respect her. She's saved scores of mages through the Wardens."

"Conscription is just another kind of prison," Leliana put forth vehemently. They've had this argument more times than either could count. "Aven wouldn't see it as saving exactly. The mages of Ferelden might respect her, but what of the uprisings in the Free Marches?"

"Hawke might very well have had a hand in the explosion Leliana, the Warden is still our best bet."

Both women fell into silence after that. They couldn't stay here and petition Alistair any longer, he was dealing with enough already, and seemed unwilling to work with those on the command of Justinia. Cassandra could understand his wariness of Templars and Mages, especially when he had more important things to be doing. They had to find answers someplace however.

 

**((0))**

 

The night was black and cold, no stars could even be seen overhead, the moon blocked by clouds. Leliana and Cassandra sat close together by the fire, staring at the flames and lost in their own thoughts. They were a day away from the coast, and then on to Kirkwall, no matter how fruitless the Seeker thought such a journey. Leliana had been strangely cryptic over the past few days, then again she had always been like that to an extent. It was she that insisted they camp out in the wild tonight, instead of going to the Inn at the crossroads and relative warmth and comfort. 

Cassandra didn't mind being outdoors however, it reminded her of her younger days. Things had been simpler once, though that seemed lifetimes ago to her now. She looked to the other side of the campfire and was startled to see a glowing set of eyes watching them. Surely there were no mountain lions so far inland? Another set of eyes came into her view, and then another.

Dalish.

"Leliana," Cassandra tried to warn, but the redhead was already on her feet, not looking worried in the slightest. She made a soft whistling sound, and the elves stepped into their circle of light. Cassandra had not been around many of the free folk before, and tried not to stare, or to let her hand fall to her weapon. Clearly they knew Leliana, and were friendly enough, bows staying on their backs and not in their hands. 

That however, was not the most shocking thing about the encounter. They were trailed by a woman in full plate armor, the silver and blue glinting in the fire light. Cassandra had never met the Hero of Ferelden, but knew it was her instantly. She was everything you would think to find in the fabled woman. Tall and strong looking, though it was hard to see the form of her body through the armor, Cassandra knew she had to be in excellent condition just to carry around the heavy plate. Her hair was the color of honey and elaborately braided back, probably thanks to her elvhen friends. The face had a stubborn set to it, clearly born in the noble class, and while not soft and beautiful like she was said to be, she did have a regal presence that was drawing and wonderful to look at. Cassandra was instantly relieved, this looked like a woman that could command respect. She wasn't alone either, she had what could only be described as a giant with her. Golden skin and a shock of white hair, the man had a stony set to his face and demonic looking red eyes.

"Hello songbird," The woman said softly, eyes lighted on Leliana. The Orlesian let out a small cry of pleasure and lept at Aven, throwing herself in her arms and pulling her down into a passionate kiss.

That was....not expected.

"I never thought I'd find you again," Leliana said through tears that fell beautifully down her cheeks. How she always managed to look poetic and deadly at the same time was truly a grand feat. "I've been searching forever."

"I'm so sorry my love," Aven whispered to her as she held her close.

Cassandra was locked in a stare down with the giant. He was clearly sizing her up, not even sparing the bard a second glance. He already knew her then. Cassandra had drilled Leliana incessantly on her time with the Hero, and thought this was probably the Qunari they called Sten. So he had stayed with her after all? What were they doing with a clan of Dalish out in the middle of no where anyways? There was too many questions to be asked, but the more important one was, had Leliana known how to contact Aven all this time? Cassandra broke her stare with the Qunari and laid a hand on the hilt of her sword, tension rippled though the group palpably.

"You knew," Cassandra accused rather than asked.

"It is not what you think Cassandra," Leliana explained, finally turning away from the Hero to address her companion. "I knew Aven was still alive but I too hadn't heard from her in years. When I heard a rumor of a woman traveling with a Qunari along the coast, I could only hope. I had chased down dozens of dead end paths already. I didn't want to get your hopes up in case it wasn't her."

"You went to the King?" Aven asked her, still not fully acknowledging Cassandra.

"We did," Cassandra said inserting herself back into the conversation. "He said you vanished years ago."

"I did." Aven said, finally leveling her cold gaze on the Seeker. "I do not need to explain myself to you."

"You are the Queen of Ferelden, you should be explaining yourself to more than just the likes of me," Cassandra couldn't help but tell her. The giant growled low in his throat, stepping towards her.

"Your dog has a rather agitating bark Leliana," The man's baritone came out evenly. For some reason it made the hairs on the back of the Seeker's neck stand up. Her body tensed, ready for a fight.

"It's alright Sten," The Hero spoke up, and then motioned for her companions to stand down. The elves relaxed slightly, and faded back into the shadows as the Qunari and Hero settled onto the ground, Leliana sitting on their side. That made Cassandra even more uncomfortable. "The woman is right after all, I abandoned my people."

"Nonsense," Sten said automatically.

"Even if it was for noble purpose, the fact remains true. If you want to know why I left, you will have to ask nicely Seeker," Aven said, looking at her and smiling, the gesture not quite reaching her eyes. Leliana looked torn between what to say, and so remained silent. Cassandra was not in the mood to be toyed with, but even her temper knew when she was outmatched. As the outsider and the aggressor, she would have to bend to their will. She wasn't so sure she was relieved they found the Warden after all.

"Please," Cassandra gritted out between her teeth. Now that Aven knew herself to be in charge, maybe she would tell the story.

"I have been searching for a cure," The Warden explained. "Something I couldn't do while leading a country and being shot down by the man at my side. I have no heir, and sooner or later my status will be trumped by the weakness of my future as Queen. The people will want stability for the future, and I cannot give them that while the taint is slowly killing me, killing all Wardens. I have learned it is possible to reverse it, but I do not know the details. It was better to let the people think I had vanished or died then to let them see my weakness. You might not believe this Seeker, but I never wanted to be Queen."

"That is not how the rest of the world saw it," Cassandra put forth. "The story about how you and Alistair fell in love has inspired a thousand songs."

"Alistair and I could barely tolerate each other," Aven tried to explain gently. "The alternative to taking the throne between us was letting Anora rule, a woman who let Ferelden nearly be torn in two be her father's hand. Clouded by the lust for power. I took up the role as Queen hoping to unite the people. It all sounded glorious to them, the pair who slew the archdemon together, falling madly in love and fixing a country ravaged by the Blight? It is the stuff of poetry, but it is not true."

"Is that why you took the position of Warden Commander?" Cassandra said, trying to paint a picture in her head, since the story she knew was being shattered right before her.

"Yes," Aven admitted.

"Half of Ferelden thinks you are dead," Cassandra told her. "The other holding out hope that you will return."

"I cannot go back," Aven passionately exclaimed. "There are more important things than being Queen."

"Like helping the Divine?" Leliana asked hopefully. "They will be meeting in Haven, in the Temple that you helped restore. You belong with us, you could help us bring peace between Templars and Mages before it is too late."

"I do not think they will listen to me," Aven said, looking at the fire rather than anyone else.

"You are a legend, if you stand with the Divine then surely the Mages will listen to us. You have helped them before," Cassandra tried to add helpfully.

"What of the Champion of Kirkwall? The man who helped start this uprising?" Aven asked patiently, trying to divert the attention from herself.

"He is a wildcard," Cassandra explained. "With no history in leading men."

"Justinia knows you, she trusts you. Once, you would have done anything to help the Chantry," Leliana exclaimed.

"I was a girl then," Aven said bitterly. "I'm not so sure I believe anymore."

"I will believe for you, please come with us my love. I need you, I would have given my life for you a dozen times. I am imploring you to just give it one chance, just come to the Conclave, even if you truly believe it will make no difference, it is worth the try," Leliana begged. Aven seemed to contemplate this for a long time, looking at her silent companion for support. The Qunari said nothing, but the looks between them implied wordless communication. She spoke after what seemed like an eternity of silence.

"I suppose one meeting couldn't hurt," She said, smiling down at Leliana.

 


	2. An Accidental Hero

One meeting, as it turned out, hurt a lot.

Her nightmares were loud and flaming things. Filled with abominations and the cry of an archdemon long dead. There was a woman, crying out to her for help, and the green glow of something sinister. She woke panting and covered in sweat, like she had almost every morning since her joining. She never dreamed of pleasant things anymore. She tried to get her bearings, not sure what to expect. A cell was not it. There was a simple straw pallet beneath her, and she quickly realized she was not alone. There was an elf sitting next to her, staring down at her curiously. He looked like one of the People, but with no vallaslin she doubted that he was. He cocked his head to the side before speaking up.

“You have violent dreams,” He told her.

“The taint will do that to a person,” She said testily, sitting up and grasping her head between her hands to keep it from rolling off her shoulders. The room swung madly about her, and the green glow was still playing around her eyes. It took her a second to realize she was the source, pulling her left hand away from her face and looking down at it. Now that looked….bad.

“You’re awake!” Came a harsh Nevarran accent.

Oh right, her.

“What happened Cassandra? And why am I in a cell?” Aven asked, trying to get shakily to her feet. The bald elf helped her stand with a shoulder underneath her arm.

“For our safety,” The Seeker told her, but entered the cell easily enough. The door was not even locked. “We don’t know what the mark on your hand is, what it can do. We don’t know if it’s what caused the explosion at the Conclave.”

“Explosion?” Aven asked in confusion, then a flash of red hair ran into the cell, barreling into her. If there hadn’t been a wall behind them, Aven would have crashed to the floor. She still wasn’t sure where the Bard stood with her these days, but it was becoming abundantly cleared that her affections had remained marginally the same, despite the desperate need for explanations of years spent apart. “Everyone is dead,” Leliana explained. “The Divine is lost to us.”

"No," Aven breathed. "All those people!"

"You don't remember?" Asked Cassandra and Solas at the same time.

Aven tried to remember, and was spilled onto her knees when pain shot through her mind. A dozen or so images swirled around in a senseless vortex in her mind's eye, and all she can remember is pain. And oddly enough, the sense that she had been in the fade. Not like before, when she had helped Eamon's son, or even fighting Uldred, but physically there. That couldn't be true, she guessed, but couldn't shake the feeling, like the dreamworld was still clinging to her, tainting her armor. "Did I...enter the Fade?" She asked stupidly, hoping it would quickly be dispelled, trying to gain her footing. Leliana was there to help in an instant.

"They say you," Cassandra paused, looking to the floor in discomfort. "They say you walked out of the Fade, fell from the sky. They also said their was a woman behind you."

"Many think it was Andraste herself," Leliana said, reminding Aven of the fanatical woman she had first met.

"It is mere speculation however," The elf put forth. When the Warden gave him another curious glance he ducked his head at her, smiling in a manner she could only describe as knowing. "You may call me Solas if it pleases you."

"Why were you watching me sleep Solas?" Aven asked, wary of the elf. Usually someone that looked like they were hiding a secret was doing just that.

"He was keeping that mark from killing you," A different voice said from further away. Aven looked into the shadows in the cell across the way. She could just barely make out the shape of the dwarf, but she didn't need to see him to recognize his voice. They had known each other once.

"Varric," She said in acknowledgment. "How's Bela?" She asked smirking, their mutual friend had always had a knack for trouble. She half expected the Ravaini to pop her head out of one of the other cells.

"Causing chaos and breaking hearts still I suspect," He said and cracked a smile at her, dropping a wink for Cassandra who looked like she was about to have an aneurism.

"You two know each other?" The Seeker asked in clear distaste.

"Helped smuggle her out of Ferelden once," The dwarf said proudly. "Right after she staged her own disappearance. You do have quite the flare for the dramatic, I most definitely should write about you."

"How did you end up here?" She asked good naturedly, ignoring the death glares from the Seeker.

"Arrested by the Divine's people, she could have asked nicely to talk to me but you know how these Chantry types are!"

A loud crack and rumble shook the prison, debris falling from the ceiling. The mark on her hand flared brilliantly to life, sending all but Solas skittering away from her. The pain was incredible, like all the matter in her body was trying to avoid being sucked into a blackhole and then shot out through her hand. The very fabric of her being was nearly screaming and ripping apart. She had never felt anything like this, not even the call of the archdemon had undone her so quickly. The mark was killing her, she was sure of it.

Cassandra filled her in on the state of affairs as they walked outside, but she needn't have bothered. Aven's eyes lit on the hole in the sky, widening in true terror. She had seen Veil tears before, but never something so massive. The demons that could get through that...well the possibilities were endless. The world would be swallowed at once, and worse, what if something more dangerous than just a mere demon made it's way through the Veil? Monsters she already knew came to mind, and wild imaginings were soon after. She had to close the Breach, there was no doubt about that. She agreed readily to Cassandra's plan, hoping that the mark on her hand really was some kind of key to all this. Leliana tried to stop her from going into the valley, but Aven would hear nothing of it. It was her duty to help people, and she had skipped out on enough of her duties for one lifetime. After she negotiated the release of Varric, the company set forward, hoping for all they were worth that they could make a difference. 

 

**((0))**

 

Walking towards the Chantry through the town of Haven was... uncomfortable. The first time she had been here a delusional cult had tried to kill her, claiming a high dragon was Andraste. Now, they were claiming she was Andraste's Herald. People fell on their knees before her, cheering, screaming, or weeping. The Hero of Ferelden lived! Their Queen was the chosen of the Maker! To hear the locals tell it, Andraste had brought her back from the dead, had sent her back to save them all. It was more than a ridiculous and frenzied notion. She remembered the first couple of years after ending the Blight, the way people had reacted to her then. She had struck the archdemon down and lived, surely a sign of divine providence. Now she was walking out of the fade and patching up giant holes in the sky. It was madness.

She put on her best court face and stood with her back straight as a rod, making her way to the Chantry being as dignified as she could be. She was sure in the very least she wasn't going to vomit and faint in front of all these people, she had faced worse before. She remembered her wedding with chagrin. She had fainted then. Alistair had been so understanding, a better husband than she could have asked for. Never once did he act slighted when she told him that she couldn't be with him intimately, or love him like he deserved. There had been lovers and secrets, play acting and posturing, but there had never been true love. Her entire persona as queen was based on everyone else's perception of her. And now? They perceived her as a prophet and saviour, how was she ever going to fake that?

Aven was relieved when the doors of the Chantry shut behind her, leaving the crowd and their beliefs behind her. She had once been like them, but after the things she had seen, she wasn't so sure anymore. She walked through the building quickly, coming to the room used as council chamber and gave pause, there was shouting on the other side of the door.

"I demand that woman be sent to Val Royeux immediately! The people want justice for the most Holy!" A man shouted, she remembered the weasel faced little bastard who had already tried to have her arrested before the mountain pass.

"Ha!" Leliana came to her defense, of course. "I would like to see you try and arrest the Queen of Ferelden in her own country! The citizens of Haven would tear you to shreds."

"She nearly closed the Breach, almost died trying. If we turn her away, then we have no hope!" Cassandra put in vehemently.

"She is a heretic!" The man tried to argue. Aven didn't want to hear anymore and barged in the room rather rudely. For the first time since they had met again, Leliana restrained herself, staying on the other side of the table as Aven came to stand next to the Seeker. "You must answer for your crimes!" The man tried again. Aven turned her cool gaze on him.

"Chancellor, I think you are in need of some air," She tried to warn him fairly, having no desire to make him even more of an enemy. He was clearly to far in his anger to back down.

"The Breach is still in the sky and here you are walking around and claiming divinity when Justinia's ashes have still not settled!" Roderick accused.

"I make no claims to divinity Chancellor," Aven explained. "And I did all I could to close the Breach."

"And Justinia?" He demanded of her.

"Will be avenged," Aven promised him. Something heavy slammed on the table next to her, and the Warden turned to glare at the offending object. It was a book, and Aven recognized it's symbol straight away. Cassandra had to be joking, but then Aven thought of that twice and guessed that Cassandra rarely joked. It was the sign of the Inquisition. She had studied about the Inquisitors of old many times over, she enjoyed the lore surrounding it. The image of the eye sent shivers up her spine. She had a feeling their problems weren't nearly even begun.

 

**((0))**

 

She needed to hide, even if it was just to catch her breath for a bit. She had agreed to stay on with the Inquisition, and that wakened a whole new slew of problems for her. She knew Alistair for one, would be here within days, demanding explanations from her. Next would probably be her brother. She had happily played dead for the past five years, enjoying the anonymity and freedom it had given her. Some of her friends had known she was alive, the ones that could help her. Sten for one had been a constant companion, refusing to believe she was capable of protecting herself without him. She had allowed this, mainly because he knew her in her simplest and truest form, and never pushed her for conversation. Zevran also knew as an extension of Isabela knowing. She had stayed with the assassin for a time. Really, she hadn't stayed in one place long. The story she told had been true, she had been looking for a cure, but she had been looking for other things too. A sense of purpose maybe, or perhaps just peace, a peace that she hadn't felt since she had been a girl living in her father's house. She had never found another home, though she had tried many over the years. Was it the Warden in her, that caused her to be so restless? Or was it something else? She didn't know anymore. She was a living myth, and that was hard to deal with even on the best of days. 

"To what do I owe the honor?" Varric said, sliding down on the bench to make room for her. He was tucked behind two tents, drinking by a merry fire. She could easily hide here, out of sight of the bustle in Haven. She accepted the flagon that was passed to her gratefully. It had been a long time since someone just sat and drank with her and wasn't demanding a million things from her.

"Tell me a story Varric," She said, watching the fire and the way it seemed to dance in the wind.

"You want to hear about Hawke don't you?" He asked knowingly. She just nodded her head. She had to admit she was curious about the man, and knew Cassandra was still looking for him, still believing if she could pull him into the fold then they would put a stop to the fighting between Mages and Templars, that she could convince them to join the Inquisition. Aven didn't hold onto the same hopes, and from what she knew of the Champion, she didn't really want him to be found. He sounded like he would only bring more trouble with him, like he had the worst luck in all of Thedas.

"Not just Hawke," She explained further. "I want to hear about that day. I know you won't want to tell it, but I need some truth Varric. I feel....responsible for it."

"How?" He asked, incredulous.

"I was the one who saved Anders," She said, looking down at her hands and remembering him very clearly. She had been charmed by him, and had met many other mages who she knew deserved better than what they got. All he had wanted was the chance to be free, and at the time she had sympathized with that greatly, wearing the shackles of Warden and Queen. She had recruited him into the Wardens, and then abandoned them all. Maybe she could have gotten through to him, or taken him with her and then the Chantry and things at Kirkwall could have been avoided.

"If it hadn't been him it would have been someone else," Varric said, seemingly reading her mind. She sighed heavily and took another drink. "Anders wasn't a monster, and he probably wasn't the same man you knew. The lines between him and Justice had already blurred by the time he reached Kirkwall."

"Did Hawke do it?" She asked.

"No...in the end it was Anders. Hawke was left to take the blame and to pass judgement that wasn't his. You probably know a thing or two about shouldering burdens that were never yours to begin with. The whole damn day, the abominations and madness? Well to tell the truth I can still believe some days that it happened to someone else. We were just doing whatever it took to survive. I can barely remember it," He said looking distant.

"That's how I remember Ostagar," She said knowingly. "And the Battle of Denerim." Madness was a perfect word for it. She decided she needed to change the subject and lighten the mood, there was no sense in dwelling in sadness that they couldn't change. "Be real, the battle with the Arishok was bullshit."

Varric for his part gasped in mock indignation. "It most certainly was not! It happened alright, and it was the funniest damn fight I had ever seen in my life. I still don't know how Hawke survived it. Did you really fight an army of corpses and smack the Pride Demon out of the Arl's son?"

"Not quite," She said, laughter bubbling to the surface, taking a few more sips. "I nearly pissed myself with fear when we got to Redcliffe, and Morrigan is the one who saved Eamon's son. Did Hawke really know a man who could punch someone's heart out of their chest?"

"That would be Fenris, and yes that part is true. Sometimes I miss that Broody son of a bitch. Did you really find Carridan?" Varric asked, eyebrows raised like he suspected it was a lie.

"Yes actually, and if I never have to go into the Deep Roads again it will be too soon," She told him grinning.

"Did you forget you were a Warden or-" He was about to say something incredibly witty when a cry went up around the camp, everyone rushing to the gates. Curiosity got the better of the two and they followed the throng of people that were rushing forwards. She stopped before Varric did, causing someone to slam into the back of her. The cries were going out all around, and then someone in the crowd announced her position and they parted before her as the gates swung open. The royal colors were flying behind a rather lengthy progression.

"The King! It's the King!" The cry went up all around.

She wanted to run.

 

 

 


	3. Broken Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you are reading this then I think you are a beautiful ray of sunshine and I will trade my body for kudos and comments!

It had been Cullen that stopped her from actually running, coming up behind her seemingly out of nowhere and placing a firm grip on her elbow. She might have said something vindictive about the choices she made in the Circle Tower in Ferelden, not getting her captor to even flinch at her venom. He reminded her that appearances were everything right now, and the people of Ferelden would cooperate better if Aven didn't make it obvious that she was afraid to confront her husband. She knew the rumors that were at this very moment most likely circulating around her. How Andraste had blessed her and Alistair's love, how terribly romantic it would be that they were reunited. She forced a smile on her face and went to meet the King. Cullen was helping her stand still, but when she got halfway there Alistair lept down from his horse and ran to her, grabbing her up in his arms. She collapsed into him, knees going weak from how overwhelmed she was. He was strong enough to keep her from falling.

"You can fall apart behind closed doors," He whispered in her ear and then cupped her face in his hands. She was already crying, and while it wasn't for the reasons the crowd was thinking, it did make for a good show after all. He smiled at her sadly, a question in his eyes. She had gotten that look many times during their public appearances, and nodded her head solemnly, bracing herself to be kissed. It wasn't that Alistair was a bad kisser, but it was uncomfortable to kiss someone who was more like a brother to you than a lover. He was gentle, and made it look romantic for her benefit.

"Make room for their Majesties!" Cullen bellowed, leading a path up to the Chantry. Aven clung to her husband and willed her feet to move forwards, smiling graciously at the people calling out to them, weeping for joy at the royal couple. She knew Cullen was right, they would have an easier time with a united front, it had always been that way. The Inquisition would look more legitimate too, with the King and Queen in the inner circle. She didn't want to think about all the campaigning and parties and things she would have to endure to get the support of the other monarchies. The road ahead of her seemed impossibly long. When the doors to the Chantry finally shut out the screaming crowd, she let herself collapse on the ground.

"Maker's breath Aven," Alistair said angrily, scooping her up off the floor and half dragging her to a more private room, where she couldn't make a spectacle of weakness in front of her fellow Inquisition agents. He dumped her unceremoniously into an overstuffed chair that smelled of must.

"I'm sure the story is a delightful one," He said stiffly. He looked strange to her, graying at his temples and deep lines around his mouth that hadn't been there the last time they had seen each other. What had the pressures of running a kingdom alone done to him? It was her fault. She couldn't stop herself from weeping, she knew even when she left that it was a bad thing to do, that he deserved better than her.

"Back from the dead," He continued, pacing the room agitatedly. "Herald of Andraste! What in the world am I going to do with you? You leave me with a kingdom and come back with an Inquisition!"

"I didn't ask for this!" She snapped, trying desperately to get a grip on herself.

"But it's here now!" He rounded on her, holding her gaze. He always had a way of making her feel very small, even when she was nearly a head taller than him. "Do you know how much pressure I had over the years, to remarry and move on without you? As soon as I start thinking that's a good idea you come back. And now we're going to have to brush up on our acting my dear, because we have to look strong if we don't want Ferelden to be swept right out from under us! Do you even realize how bad things have gotten? I have a Mage war erupting right through my kingdom! We never got to recover from the Blight fully, and now this!"

"Alistair I-"

"You made a promise to me!" He shouted. She hated making him angry, they had been friends once, while they ruled together. They had made a system that had worked, even while it suffocated them both. "You said we would do this together!"

"I'm sorry!" She proclaimed.

"You're sorry?!" He asked, eyes going mad, anger mounting. It had clearly been the wrong thing to say. "You planned this from the beginning, convinced me to lay with Morrigan, telling me it was all going to work out. Promised that you would stay by my side, that we would make changes in Ferelden for the better!"

"I was trying to save your life," She argued, not liking how heavy the guilt was feeling just now. Not liking that he was right.

"Do I look saved to you?" He demanded.

“You look alive!”

Just then the door to the room creaked and someone slunk in through the crack. She so wasn't ready to have this fight either. Alistair and Leliana sized each other up from opposite sides of the room. They had been friends in the beginning, long before Aven had truly liked either of them. She remembered how they used to sit and read together some times, or get in great religious debates, often to the entertainment of the rest of the camp. She had ruined that though, came between them and made them hate each other. She felt like every time she made a choice it seemed to hurt everyone around her.

"You're why she came back from the dead then," Alistair said, looking deflated as the anger gave way to defeat. "You just stomp your little foot and she came running huh? Now you get to steal her away again."

"I stole nothing," Leliana defended herself. "You were the one who stole her in the first place. You got to marry her."

"It was her idea," Alistair reminded her. 

"What does it even matter now?" Aven asked. "There are demons raining from the sky, the entire world could be ending!"

"That's why I came actually," Alistair told them, surprising both women. He pulled a letter from the breast pocket and handed it over to Leliana who scanned the words quickly. She didn't look like it was good news, and poked her head out of the door to call to Josephine. The brief reprieve from arguing felt nice, and Aven avoided looking up at her husband. She still rather felt like this conversation was far from over. The Ambassador came into the room then and took the letter from Leliana, scanning it with an expert eye.

"The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition, and has labelled you a heretic," Josephine says in a dissapointed tone. 

"That didn't take long," Aven said, standing from her chair and wiping at her eyes tiredly. If Josephine noticed her tear stains she was tactful enough not to say anything.

"It goes deeper," The Antivan said while pouting. "They are trying to claim that you are a Mage sympathizer and sewed the seeds of rebellion long ago. They are also claiming that...Anders had conspired with you, his Warden captain. That the explosion at the Conclave was carefully constructed by you...and that Ferelden plans to march on Orlais."

"That's a lofty claim," Alistair said. "But they are afraid, they will place the blame where they can."

"They can't possibly think I had anything to do with Kirkwall," Aven said, snatching the letter with a little look of apology to Josephine. "Half the country thought I was dead at the time."

"Perhaps, but I imagine they"re saying that they hadn't heard from you in years because you were plotting the Mage uprising," Josephine put forth.

"That's ridiculous!"

"More ridiculous than Andraste having brought you back from the dead?" Leliana asked. "They are determined to make this some kind of plot against the Chantry."

"I could tell them to truth," Aven ventured. "Go to Val Royeux and say what really happened, where I have been."

"If you do that imagine the upheaval it would cause here," Alistair said wisely. "We'll have to tell the truth while hiding it in lies."

"I will think of a way to spin it while you are in the Hinterlands," Josephine promised. "Worry not your Majesty, things won't be so bad."

Everyone in the room had a hard time believing that.

**((0))**

 

The next month of Aven's life was to be a complete nightmare. Alistair as it turned out, couldn't stay long, and was very determined to fight with her any instance they could be alone. There was a never ending repertoire of reasons for him to be upset with her. She was a horrible queen, a detestable wife, a bloody vanishing act that had no reason to come back. Now she couldn't just go back to wherever she had come from, because she had a glowing green hand that could seal tears in existence. That little fact of course, well it caused even more colorful fights. How was she going to save the world this time? That seemed to be the burden laid on her shoulders. She did it once, right? That had to mean she could do it again. Except last time she had barely gotten the job done, and it was more of a group effort than the histories would like to paint. She was the one who struck down the archdemon though, so it was her that got the ridiculous title. No one ever sang songs about the time she got lost in the Korcari wilds and was nearly gutted by a Chasind warrior. They never recalled the epic tale of how she was poisoned in Orzammmar and spent the better part of two weeks dedicatedly trying to throw up the entire contents of her body, while Alistair bumbled around the finer points of Dwarven politics. Many seem to have forgotten that she had been a teenager when all this started, this path of unwanted greatness that she was stuck on. The moment she had watched her parents die she knew life would only be a series of tragedies.

When Alistair finally went back to the capitol, Aven left for the Hinterlands. She was knocked breathless about the reality they had become. Land that would have no hope of ever healing from the Blight when it was being blasted apart by war. Had this been her fault? If she had been a more vigilant Queen, could she have stopped them? The mark on her hand flared painfully when she looked upon the lands, and she knew she would have to stop questioning the choices she couldn't change, and try to focus on the challenges at hand. There was no telling if things could have been different, or if it was ego that made her think her involvement had that much power. All she could do now was fix what she could, stop the demons that were threatening them all. It was nice to have a purpose again, a definitive goal.

Making the crossroads safe was the first one.

While it seemed like a never ending cache of problems here, Aven enjoyed the work. She enjoyed getting her hands dirty and the simple fact that meeting her and seeing her work with small and grand alike had a palpable change in the Hinterlands. She was Queen here after all, and it did her country good to see her acting like it again. This naturally caught the attention of other notable characters and everyone seemed eager to hate or love her with all kinds of wild tales following everywhere she went. It wasn’t long before everyone’s grand idea of her addressing the Chantry became a reality and she was sent on her merry way to Val Royeaux.

**((0))**

 

“Are you ever going to speak to me?” Came the soft voice, a brisk breeze being let into her tent along with the Bard. Aven set aside her sword and looked up expectantly. 

“I thought you were dealing with the Cult of Andraste,” She says by way of excuse. She really had been avoiding her, and Cassandra…also Josephine, perhaps Cullen as well.

“I got back days ago,” She said, her voice sounding small, reminding Aven of times long passed. She remembered seeing that pretty little face, so out of place in Lothering, and thinking her voice sounded like music. Sure, originally she had been positive the woman was insane, but time had changed that. If only slightly.

“Why aren’t you in Haven?” _Why did you come all this way?_

“Is that where you want me to be?

“That’s not how I meant it,” Aven tried to argue. A glare silenced her. 

“I have been more than patient with you! You let me love you but only if it’s in faith and distance alone! You’ve hardly touched me since you’ve been back. I’ve loved you for years, please do not tell me it was all in vain. I can’t have another part of my life mean nothing!”

“I’m sorry,” Aven tried. She felt like all she did these days was apologize. 

“You left me!” Leliana accused.

“I did it to protect you!”

“You did it because you were scared!”

That did it, Aven snapped, well and truly and with so much anger she couldn’t feel herself in her body an longer. Mostly because she hated the way Leliana always had known her better than she had ever known herself, partly from a truly delightful propensity for self-loathing and guilt. 

“I am so much more than afraid,” She started, voice deadly even and cold. “The moment I left my parents I knew my life would be nothing more than darkness and I was right. It had been one nightmare after the other and it never stops. The Maker never stops asking more of me! End the Blight Aven, lead the Warden’s against talking darkspawn, rebuild your destroyed family home, save refugees, cool political tempers, run a fucking country with a man you can never love like he deserves! I was never meant to be a hero and now I can’t get away from it! All the while the blood in my veins is killing me and I can’t stop it! I can never give enough. You left me too, so you could be with Justinia instead of with me like you promised. Just when I think I can maybe fix my life, free myself from the taint, you come calling again and now this!” She shouts, holding up her glowing fist. “I don’t even exist anymore Leliana, I am just a tool for a god that has drained me of everything I ever had! Why would Andraste choose me when I have already given everything? I wish I was dead, every night, and you wonder why I cannot touch you? So that I can bring my wickedness into the only thing worth holding onto?”

“Aven I-“

“I hear it,” The Warden whispers. “My own sweet tainted lullaby.”

“The calling?” Leliana asks in shock. 

“I’m ready,” Aven says in defeat, staring at the glowing between her fingers. The silence that follows is like a roar. It can be felt. Leliana takes a few tentative steps forward, reaching out to embrace her love, sighing in relief when she is allowed the luxury. Tomorrow they would have to face the Chantry, have to put on brave faces and deal with things that shouldn’t have to be dealt with. Leliana couldn’t help but think these had to be the end times, that the Maker himself would have to come down to fix this impossible mess, that he was asking too much of his chosen. Her heart ached with it. 

“My darling,” She says instead, petting the blonde head softly, reverently. “I will burn the whole world down at your side, but I will never give you over to the evil that threatens to take you from me. I will save you.”

Aven can’t help but turn and kiss her then, and kiss her with everything she had. Kiss her as if being saved were actually possible. 


End file.
